


Coming Home

by BitterTongue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: You come home to Bucky, you just wish he would come home to you.





	Coming Home

It didn't matter how long you were gone, the sounds of Bucky coming home were always recognizable. It started with heavy footfalls just outside the door, caused by weak flooring in the overused hallway. Then the sound of metal against metal as he turned his key in the first lock, then the second, always moving top to bottom so when he was done unlocking the door he could move his hand to the handle and turn. You waited patiently on the couch, feigning a coy indifference.  
He was backlit by the light of the corridor but you could tell his head was down and he hadn't noticed you, he never did. You heard more than saw his wallet and keys hit the bowl just inside the entryway. He would take off his boots, first the left then the right, before moving further into the room and closing the door. Only then would he look up and notice your presence.   
“You're back.” Was all he said when your eyes met. They were guarded and unreadable, which meant you knew exactly what was going through his head.  
“I missed you.” You said with a smirk. It wasn't a joke, you did miss him, you always did.  
He did not waver, you had to be impressed with his resolve this time. Usually the confession would prompt a release of his furrowed brows at least.   
“I told you not to come back.”  
You stood, it took a moment, your side protesting as your torn skin stretched and moved pulling it further apart. Your hiss of pain finally broke Bucky's defenses. He took a step forward, socked feet silent on the hardwood.   
“I belong here. With you.”   
He took a step back, then another for good measure, and the walls were back up. You would have growled in frustration if it were appropriate, but Bucky had to be coaxed and the noise would certainly send you back onto the street. No, you needed to keep breaking him but it was getting harder and harder every time you came back.   
“You lost that right last time you left.” He spat and you almost flinched at the poison in his words. It was chilling to hear him talk to you like that.  
“My name is still on the lease. Mr and Mrs Barnes co-own this apartment for another four months.”   
He relented then, you knew he would. Pulling your married name out was a card you rarely had to play, but it was effective. You watched as his shoulders sagged and his eyes softened.  
“You can take the couch. I want you out by morning.”  
“Bucky…” You started, but your husband stomped away, ignoring your call. The light flicked on in the bathroom and you could hear him rummaging around. He emerged a few moments later with a small red box. He tossed the first aid kit onto the couch.  
You sat back down gingerly, the worn leather caressing your skin as you removed your shirt. Bucky watched silently as you pressed your fingers into your side.  
The wound was deep and still bleeding, though the flow of blood had settled into the occasional droplet that ran down your skin like a small river. You opened the first aid box and pulled out a roll of gauze, half gone from your previous visits home.   
“Looks like a bad one.” His voice was loud in the silence of the room. The tension felt like jello that his words sent vibrations through amplifying them in your ears.   
“You should see the other guy.”  
“What was it this time?”   
“I thought you didn't want to know anymore.”  
Bucky crossed his arms and nodded, turning away from you and to the kitchen. You took a deep, shaky breath now that you were alone. Bucky always saw your body battered and broken, but never once did you allow him to see your panic, your fear. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as you took an alcohol swab to your wound, the sting bringing the wetness unbidden and unwanted.   
The sound of Bucky opening a beer hid your sniffle. You waited for the second release of air from a sealed bottle but it never came. Damn, you really could have used a beer.   
He was back to watching you, standing between the living room and kitchen, occasionally bringing the beer to his lips. You made quick work of dressing your wound.   
“You need more gauze.” You advised. You really just wanted to fill the silence with something. His resolve was stronger than it had ever been and you weren't sure the night would turn at this rate.   
“And you need to work on your clean up, doll.”  
There it was, doll. Doll meant he was getting soft and you had a chance. You sent him a questioning glance and he spun his pointer finger, instructing you go turn around.   
You felt the couch cushion sink behind you as Bucky joined you. He pushed the hair from the back of your neck over your shoulder and you held it gently, closing your eyes as his fingers brushed along the sensitive skin at the top of your spine.   
“Looks like you got a bit of glass right here.” He whispered against your neck as a warm finger trailed next to the discovered cut. You shuddered at the sensation and the pain it brought.   
“Didn't even notice.” You breathed, earning a chuckle of Bucky.  
“I've told you a million times to watch your back.”   
“I used to have you to watch it for me.”   
The pull of glass from your flesh stung. Bucky didn't wait for your nerves to settle before pulling the other pieces. He worked quickly and efficiently.   
“You shouldn't be out there in the first place.”  
“Some of us still want to fight for what's right.” You snapped back, grunting as the alcohol swab met your skin. Bucky pushed down harder than you thought necessary.   
“I don't want to do this again. I'm not going back and you're not coming home…”  
“He's gone Buck. Shutting yourself in won't bring him back.”  
Bucky got up from the couch and began pacing. You didn't think the pacing would come so early in the evening but here you were ahead of schedule. You could feel the heat rising just under your skin.   
“This isn't about Steve-”  
“It's always about Steve!” You shouted effectively cutting him off. You stood up and quickly came to stand before your husband. He looked so tired all of a sudden, as if his hundred years alive had suddenly caught up with him when his best friend died.  
“Honey, it's always been about Steve.” You whispered, cradling his face in our hands. Your vision blurred as Bucky's chin wobbled between your palms.  
“Its okay,” You brought his forehead to yours as he let out a desperate sob, “I'm here.”  
“Please stay this time. Please doll, I need you.”   
Strong arms brought you impossibly close and tears that weren't yours broke against your collar bone.  
You couldn't bring yourself to answer, couldn't bring yourself to lie to Bucky and make a promise you couldn't keep. You knew come first light you would leave him and rejoin the others who were still fighting after losing their captain. If only he would come with you, come home.  
Bucky sank to his knees, face buried in your stomach and fingers spread wide across your lower back.   
“Please don't leave me again, darlin. I'm begging you.”  
“Okay,” you said, the word almost choking on a sob that raced to escape first. “I'll stay.”  
You pulled Bucky up and held him close before leading him to the bedroom. You would let him curl around you for the night and fall into what was probably his first restful sleep since you had last been there and then you would be gone before first light.   
Hopefully this time he would follow. Hopefully this time he would come home.


End file.
